


Reborn with a Widow

by MayorHaggar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Creampie, Crossover, Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mating Press, Nipple Play, Parent/Child Incest, Pseudo-Incest, Sexual Tension, Spooning, thigh job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorHaggar/pseuds/MayorHaggar
Summary: After an unexpectedly lonely existence, Harry is given a new life as the son of Natasha Romanoff. But Harry, already fully formed mentally, does not view her as a mother.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Natasha Romanov (Marvel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

_“You have a choice, Harry. You can go back—or you can go on.”_

_“On?”_

_“On,” Dumbledore said simply._

_It was a surprisingly easy choice for Harry Potter. He’d done what he set out to do—he’d defeated Voldemort. There was nothing left for him to go back for, and no one who would truly miss him, grieve for him. There were people who he had surface-level friendships with, but none who he was truly close to._

_He nodded at Dumbledore and boarded the train._

\--

“This is a most unusual offer we’re giving you, Mr. Potter. But then you’ve lived a most unusual life, haven’t you?”

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. The train hadn’t taken him straight to the afterlife as he’d expected, but instead to some kind of stopover. There a female attendant had offered him a second chance at life, quite literally. Seemingly in recognition of the service he’d done in his life, he was being given the option to be reborn in a world similar to and yet different from his own. If the offer had allowed him to get to know his parents outside of other people’s memories he would have jumped at the chance, but the attendant had made it clear that he would not be the son of James and Lily Potter in this new world, nor would he retain anything more than a faint trace of his magical power. His memories from his previous life would remain his, but other than that this would truly be a completely fresh start for him.

“How do I know things will be any different for me?” he asked. “If I’m going to go through a second life without being close to anyone, I think I’d prefer to go on and be with my parents in the afterlife if it’s all the same to you.”

“Even with your parents’ demise, you shouldn’t have been so alone in your first life,” the elderly attendant said. “So many things had to go wrong for you to wind up so isolated. Your godfather should have been there to raise you in their absence, but he was wrongfully imprisoned and then died in Azkaban. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley should have been loyal companions at your side through every adventure, but they both met untimely demises—Granger thanks to the troll, and Weasley through a freak accident as a baby during an argument between his father and Lucius Malfoy. And the youngest Weasley child, Ginevra, should have given you romantic love and the family you’d always desired, but the Weasleys left England after Ronald’s death and she attended Beauxbatons instead. It really was a string of unforeseen tragedies that left you so isolated.”

Harry’s head was reeling at hearing the life he might have led. He could still remember the look on McGonagall’s face when she walked into the Gryffindor common room and informed them of the demise of his fellow first year Hermione, who had apparently been crying in the girls’ bathroom after being bullied by Draco Malfoy; his Head of House looked like she had aged decades in one night. He knew the Weasleys only from hearing their name mentioned in passing as members of the original Order of the Phoenix, so the names Ron and Ginevra meant nothing to him. But apparently they could have meant the world to him if things had gone differently. What might have been.

“And you think my life will be different this time?” he asked. “Less dangerous?”

“I don’t know about less dangerous,” she said, smiling slightly. “Danger seems to follow one such as you. But while there is no way to say for sure, it seems unlikely that you would find yourself so lonely in your second life.”

That was enough for Harry. He’d always been a bit of a risk taker, and the possibility of having a better life, a happy life, a less lonely life than the one he’d just lived was too tempting to pass up.

 _Sorry, mum and dad_ , he thought to himself. _I’ll come and be with you eventually. But not yet._

“I’ll take it,” he said aloud.

\--

_Eighteen Years Later_

“You’re the new Hawkeye now, Harry. Make me proud.”

“I will,” Harry promised, looking down at the bow the older man had just placed in his hands. He smiled as Clint Barton patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Clint.” Even though the man was technically his father in his second life, that had never really been their relationship. They were close; very close, closer than he’d been to anyone in his first life. But it had never really felt like a relationship between a parent and a child. Clint was more like his best friend than his father.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “You can pay me back by watching Nat’s back now that I won’t be there to do it anymore.”

“I will,” Harry said, even more determined. He was fiercely protective of those closest to him; he knew what life could be like on his own, and it wasn’t something he ever wished to experience again. And while he had several people he wished to protect in this world, there was no one more important to him than Natasha Romanoff.

She was his mother in this new world, though in all honesty she’d never truly replaced Lily Potter as his mother in his mind. Though she had no way of knowing it, she’d been about eighteen years too late to raise him. She had always called him an old soul; it was just the literal truth in a way she would never be able to understand.

But just as with Clint, not really viewing her as a mother in the traditional sense didn’t change a thing about how much she meant to him. The attendant that had allowed him to be reborn as a baby in this new life had been right. Even though he was not the Boy-Who-Lived his second time through, danger had still been a constant presence in his life. This time it was his new parents that routinely risked their lives as members of the Avengers. Harry constantly worried that one day they would go out on a mission and never return, and he would be on his own again like he’d been for so many years in his first life.

That was why he had gone to Clint at an early age and asked him to teach him how to use a bow. He couldn’t wield magic in his second life, at least not overtly, but he wasn’t going to let that allow him to remain on the sidelines. Whether he was the Boy-Who-Lived or not, he would protect those who were important to him. Clint had seen his determination and agreed to train him, and now that Harry was of age he was passing the Hawkeye mantle on to him and retiring to the farm with his wife and three children.

“He’ll be fine, Natasha,” Laura Barton said. Natasha managed a half-smile and a nod.

“I know,” she said. “He’s a better shot than Clint.” She ignored Clint’s mock outrage, as well as the laughter of his other children, and looked directly at Harry. “That doesn’t mean a mother doesn’t still worry.”

There were several reasons Harry was glad that Clint and Natasha had never married. They’d never even dated; they’d had one night of passion while in close quarters during a tense mission, and he had been an unexpected result. He was a _very_ unexpected result at that, since her time in the Red Room had made Natasha sterile. The doctors couldn’t explain her pregnancy. Harry could have, though no one would have believed him. And he couldn’t blame them. If he didn’t have the memories in his head _he_ probably wouldn’t have believed it either.

Natasha and Clint had both been overjoyed to have him (Natasha especially, since she’d thought she would never have a chance to be a mother), but that didn’t change that they were friends and nothing more. Ironically having a child together not only hadn’t strained their friendship but had only strengthened it. When Clint later met and married Laura and started his family with her, he’d done so with Natasha’s full blessing and support. She and Laura had become good friends, and Harry got along great with his younger half-siblings. For Harry, who had always wanted a large family, this unique extended family was something to treasure. That was one of the biggest reasons he was happy Natasha and Clint had never married.

“You’ll just have to look out for him, same as he’ll be looking out for you,” Clint said. “I know I feel a lot better about going into retirement knowing that you two have each other.”

“Me too,” Natasha said, and despite her obvious worries she gave Harry a heartfelt smile. He smiled back, hoping that she couldn’t tell how much a simple smile from her made his heart race.

This was the other reason he was glad Clint and Natasha had never gotten married and never been a couple, and as happy as he was to have Laura and his half-siblings in his life, this was the biggest reason for his relief. He was madly in love with Natasha Romanoff.

He knew anyone else, Natasha included, would see it as wrong. To the rest of the world he was her son and she was his mother. He even called her mom, but that was to keep up appearances and make her happy. Even though she was biologically his mother in this world, he’d never been able to see her as such. He’d never known Lily Potter, and obviously knew Natasha far better, but Lily was still his mum in his mind. His new body had needed to grow and mature, but his mind had already been that of the young adult he’d been when he killed Voldemort.

She might view him as her son, but to him she was not a mother, not truly. She was a woman; a strong, beautiful and caring woman who loved him with all her heart, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted her to. And he’d tried to resist his feelings, knowing that she would certainly never reciprocate them and it could potentially ruin the most important relationship in his life.

But there was no denying it. Harry was in love with Natasha Romanoff.

\--

“Good job out there, Harry,” Natasha said. She walked out of the shower of the hotel bathroom, running a towel through her wet hair. “I don’t think even Clint could have taken all three of those assholes out at the same time.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine,” he said, smiling bashfully. “Even if I’d missed one of them, you probably could have made it to him and taken him down before he got a shot off.”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging. It was true; she was pretty sure she would have been able to close the distance and knock out the lone remaining douche if Harry hadn’t been able to take him. But it would have been close, and she knew firsthand that things sometimes went to hell unexpectedly. She was grateful for his help, just as she had been from the moment he joined the Avengers.

“Definitely,” he said, sure of it. She smiled at his belief in her abilities.

“Maybe,” she insisted. “But I didn’t need to find out, because you were there watching my back just like you always are. We make a really good team.” He smiled broadly at her praise.

She wasn’t exaggerating or trying to make him feel good about himself. It was completely true. As nervous as she’d been when he and Clint approached her together about the idea of him taking over as Hawkeye when Clint retired to be with his family, she hadn’t been able to say no. She knew how good he was; she’d seen all the hard work he’d put in to train with the bow, and the results had been obvious even before he’d joined the team.

She still worried about him, of course. She was his mother; that was natural. But she couldn’t deny his skill with the bow, and hadn’t been able to object when Director Fury started sending him on bigger missions.

It helped that they were paired up on missions so frequently. It wasn’t even because of their obvious familial connection either; their skills just meshed together really well. He specialized in pinpoint accuracy and attacking from a distance while she excelled in close quarters hand to hand combat. She was able to act with a confidence that she hadn’t felt with any partner ever before, not even Clint. She felt safer than she ever had before, knowing Harry and his bow were on hand to watch her back at all times.

“Any word from Director Fury yet?” Harry asked.

“No.” She discarded her towel and shook her head. “They’ll extract whatever information we need from the pricks we arrested tonight though. SHIELD is very thorough.”

“And in the meantime we just lay low and see if anybody else comes back to check on the facility in the morning,” he said.

“Exactly,” she said, nodding. “We should get to bed soon; it’s always a good idea to rest when you can while out on longer missions like this one.” She knew she was sounding more like his mother than his partner/mentor at the moment, but she couldn’t help it. Try as she might to keep the mothering to a minimum and treat him just as she would any other partner, she still slipped into old habits now and again without meaning to.

“Right,” Harry said. He looked back and forth between her and the bed. “Uh, I’ll just grab a few blankets and make a little space for myself on the floor. You can take the bed.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s big enough for two, and we both need a good night’s sleep so we can be rested and ready to go bright and early tomorrow.”

They’d had accommodations in separate hotel rooms at the previous location, but they’d had to follow their lead out here unexpectedly. Some kind of video game convention was in town and all of the hotels that were in close enough proximity to their target location had been booked up. It had been a stroke of luck for them that one guest had had to cancel at the last minute and this room had opened up, but it only had the one bed.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. He looked more nervous about what she’d just suggested than any life or death situation they’d walked into together, and it amused her.

“Of course I’m sure,” she said, smiling gently in hopes that she could calm him down and help him see how ridiculous he was being. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of sharing a bed with your mother. I don’t have cooties, you know.”

“Ha.” He chuckled weakly. “Well, if you’re sure it’s no big deal, I guess…”

“I trust you to watch my back against assholes who want to kill me, destroy the world, and sometimes both,” she said. “I think I can trust you to sleep beside me without hogging all the covers or anything.” She deliberately tried to keep it light and humorous, steadfastly ignoring any consideration for what was actually at the root of his reluctance. This was normal; they were partners. Sometimes partners had to do things like this, share close quarters and even a bed. It happened. Even she and Clint, while not romantically involved at any point, had occasionally had no choice but to share a room and even a bed.

She did not allow her mind to dwell on the fact that she and Clint had wound up fucking in just such a situation, and nine months later Harry had been the miraculous, unexplainable result. This was different, she assured herself. What had happened with Clint had been unexpected and not at all something either of them intended, but it wasn’t like there’d been any taboo to what they’d done. They were best friends, and sometimes best friends wound up fucking even if they weren’t interested in a deeper romantic relationship. But this was _Harry_. He was her son. There was no reason for this to be awkward.

Did Natasha feel his eyes on her ass as she bent over in front of him in her sleeping shorts while putting her old clothes away? Did she notice his gaze lingering a little bit too long on her cleavage as she climbed into the bed? Of course she did; she was trained to notice even subtle signs, and he was being far from subtle. But just as she had for years when it came to Harry, she ignored what her brain was telling her.

“Go shower up,” she said. “I’ll leave the other side of the bed nice and cool for you.”

\--

Sleep did not come easily to Harry; not tonight, not with the woman of his dreams so close. He grunted in dismay when he woke up far sooner than he would have liked, especially since it had taken him so long to fall asleep in the first place. But then his brain caught up to his new surroundings and something as irrelevant as sleep became a distant concern.

They’d both shifted around in their sleep, rolling over onto their sides and meeting in the middle of the bed. Her back was to him, and he was spooning her. Her fantastic ass was pressed against his groin. His cock was already partially erect when he woke, and it got the rest of the way in a hurry once he was conscious and aware of what was happening. Even with his boxers and her shorts in the way, this was an incredible feeling.

The arm that was wrapped around her body had landed in such a way that his hand was groping one of her big tits underneath her tank top. She hadn't worn a bra to bed, so he was touching her bare breast. He couldn't be sure whether the tank top had gotten bunched up by her when she was rolling around in her sleep or if he'd unconsciously pushed it up while spooning her, but he would bet on the latter. Even in sleep his body knew what it wanted, and it wanted Natasha Romanoff in every way possible.

Sleep was the last thing on his mind now. He was panicking but elated at the same time. If she woke up and felt him spooning her, pressing his erection against her ass and squeezing her bare tit underneath her tank top, it could ruin everything. They would finally have to address the elephant in the room and he would have to come clean and tell her he loved her in a way he should not. While Harry felt no revulsion about the idea, never having considered her his mother, he knew she felt differently. He was her son as far as she was concerned, and learning of his true feelings for her would no doubt horrify her. If she learned of the depth and the true nature of how he felt about her it would change their relationship forever, and likely not in the way he wanted it to. Despite looking out for her on missions, this could be the way he lost her forever.

But despite knowing how big a risk it was, his brain could not convince his body to pull away. Even with all of the potential danger tied up in her catching him in this position, the urges of his body were undeniable. He'd wanted this for years, his adult brain trapped in a child's body and wishing futilely that he could make this woman his. She still wasn't his, and she surely never would be unless she was willing to set her morals aside and break a major taboo, but she _was_ in his arms. This was likely the closest he would ever be able to come to making her his, and no matter what his brain was trying to tell him in warning, he couldn't resist the temptation of Natasha's irresistible body in his arms and pressing against his cock.

Harry slowly, carefully rocked his hips, rubbing his bulge against her ass through their layers of clothing. He paused there and his breath caught in his throat as he anxiously waited to see if she would wake up, scold him and kick his ass for taking advantage of their close quarters in this way, but she continued to breathe deeply in her sleep. Emboldened by her lack of response, Harry moved his hips again, grinding against her harder his time. He did it again, and again, and soon was unabashedly dry humping her through their layers of sleepwear.

He got so into it that his fully erect cock slipped through the opening in his underwear and pressed against her ass. Having already come this far, Harry wasn't going to back down now. He reached down and slid her shorts to the side just enough to let his cock slide underneath and touch her bare skin. It wound up nestling in the cleft between the cheeks of her perfect ass, which was an even bigger success than he could have hoped for.

Harry was too far gone now to even spare a thought for how wrong it was to take advantage of her in her sleep like this, never mind how freaked out she would be that it was _him,_ the young man she saw as her son, doing it. All he cared about was indulging in the body he had lusted after and longed to touch for years now, and that was the only thought running through his head and guiding his actions. He humped his hips as wildly as he dared, sliding his cock back and forth between her ass cheeks. It was an incredible feeling, and that was without any penetration.

He couldn't even imagine how amazing it would feel to actually be inside of her, because just this skin on skin contact was getting his heart racing like nothing else in his life ever had. Make that _either_ of his lives, because the Boy-Who-Lived certainly hadn't ever gotten close enough to anyone else to enjoy something as intimate as this. Natasha was closer to him and meant more to him than anyone else ever had, and he couldn't get enough of her.

It wasn't just his hips rocking and his cock rubbing against her that served as the only inappropriate contact between him and the sleeping woman. His hand had been on her tit when he woke up, and of course it had stayed right there, but he hadn't merely rested his hand against her for long. There was no way he was going to feel that big breast in his hand and not grope and squeeze it as he'd longed to do for years. He squeezed her breast, marveling at the size of it as well as the feel of it in his hand. And while he could have gladly groped her tit until the sun rose, there was more within reach for him.

His fingers made their way to her nipple, and he rubbed her slowly. While this was his first true sexual experience, he knew enough about the way things worked to know that a woman's nipples were sensitive and should be treated with care, and that's what he did.

He ran his fingers across her carefully, probing and getting a feel for her. She sighed in her sleep and shifted slightly when he brushed against her nipple with his thumb, and after getting over his momentary terror that he'd pushed too far and she'd woken up and was about to kick his ass, he took it as a sign he was doing something right and continued to do it. He kept playing with her nipple, repeating the motion that had seemingly triggered an automatic positive response from her even in her sleep. No more sighs came out and her body didn't shift in response, and he convinced himself that it had either been the natural patterns of her sleep or had just been his imagination playing tricks on him.

It took considerable effort for Harry not to moan and announce his pleasure loudly, assuredly waking Natasha up and ruining everything in the process. He had to bite his lip to force himself to keep quiet as he enjoyed a pleasure he had previously thought would be forever out of his reach. He might not be with Natasha for real, looking down into her beautiful green eyes as she sucked his cock or hearing her moan and scream in pleasure as he fucked her, but it was still closer to those dreams than he'd ever thought he would get.

If it had been possible, he would have kept doing this forever. Had he smuggled a time turner over from his previous life and held onto it for a rainy day, he would have used it here and now to relive this moment as many times as he could. Sliding his cock between the perfect ass cheeks of Natasha, squeezing her breast and playing with her nipple was a greater reward than Harry could have ever dreamed of when he went on this mission, and risks be damned, he couldn't get enough of it.

Sadly, he couldn't keep it up forever. He bit down on his lip harder, fighting back a helpless groan as he felt his orgasm fast approaching no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. His eyes suddenly went wide as he realized the problem this presented. If he wasn't careful he would cum all over Natasha's ass. Picturing that image inside of his head very nearly made him lose control right then and there, but some semblance of sanity returned to him before he could make that mistake. It wasn't like he was a wizard anymore; he wouldn't be able to vanish the evidence of his orgasm with a wave of his wand. If he lost it and came on Natasha, there would be no way to hide what he'd done. He could either leave it there and accept his fate or try and wipe it off of her, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he would be able to rub his cum off of her and give her a proper cleanup without waking her up. With her level of training and alertness it was a minor miracle he hadn't woken her up as it was.

The only option for Harry was to pull his cock out from underneath her shorts before it was too late, but this was easier said than done. He'd waited until he was nearly past the point of no return as it was, and any sudden movements were going to increase the risk of something going very wrong. It required willpower and careful, deliberate movement, but Harry knew that failure was not an option. He very slowly released her nipple, pulled his hand off of her breast and brought it out from underneath her tank top. He thought about smoothing her tank top down so it would cover her completely again, but decided not to. It might very well have bunched up naturally like that as she rolled over in her sleep, and even if it hadn't he felt like it still wouldn't seem too suspicious to her when she woke up.

Getting his cock out from between her ass and underneath her shorts was the more difficult task, but fortunately he now had both hands to dedicate to it. In one of the most impressive displays of stealth in his life, Harry was able to slide his cock out from between her cheeks, get it out of her shorts and gently tug them back into position.

Showing just how close he'd cut it, he started cumming mere seconds after his cock was free. He hastily grabbed his cock and redirected it so it was pointing at him rather than her. He breathed quickly as he gave in to the most intense orgasm of either of his lives. He had never cum this hard before, and as spurt after spurt of cum landed harmlessly on his belly, he allowed himself to wonder how much more he would cum if he fucked her for real.

Harry took a deep breath as the dust settled, but as his pleasure died down his need to be clean took priority. He regretfully pulled away from Natasha's side and rolled off of the bed, moving carefully to make sure none of his cum dripped onto the bed sheets or the floor as he got up. He softly padded into the bathroom to wash off the remnants of an unbelievable night.

He might be about to wipe up the evidence of what he'd just done, but he knew the memory would not be fading from his brain any time soon.

\--

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Harry and she could hear the water running, Natasha finally allowed herself to groan and shiver in reluctant pleasure.

If Harry had thought she was capable of sleeping through all of that, he didn't understand her all that well. Something told her he wasn't that foolish though. He'd likely been too overwhelmed by what he was feeling and the situation he found himself in to think rationally. If he'd been using his brain he would have certainly realized she'd been awake for all of it.

It had been startling to wake up to the feeling of her son's hand squeezing her tit and his cock grinding against her ass through her shorts. She'd very nearly screamed in fright, and probably would have if he'd been anyone else. But because it was Harry she'd kept quiet, and hadn't done anything to stop him. They were teetering on the edge of something as it was, and had been for years if she was being honest. If she'd reacted or made it obvious that she was aware of what was happening they would have to face it and put it all out in the open, and that thought terrified Natasha. Better to just ignore it, she decided, and wait for him to grow bored and go back to sleep. 

Only he hadn’t gotten tired of it, and he hadn’t gone back to sleep. He’d only gotten bolder, squeezing her breast and grinding his hips against her harder. And just when she’d gotten used to that, he had to go and pull his cock out, shove it under her shorts and slide it back and forth between her ass cheeks!

That had been shocking enough. Yes, she’d known he had developed an attraction to her. If he thought he’d been subtle about that, he was wrong. She’d been well trained on how to spot a male attraction and use it to her advantage when necessary, and spotting the signs in Harry had been painfully easy for her. She found herself wishing she _wasn’t_ so good at reading people, because this was not information she wanted to have. She had been deathly afraid that she would turn out to be a bad mother when she found out she had somehow gotten pregnant, and noticing Harry’s attraction to her did nothing to ease those fears.

She’d done her best to ignore it and pretend it didn’t exist, and even when she did acknowledge it in her head she always convinced herself that it was just a phase, something he would grow out of once he got older and met a woman his own age who would interest him. It wasn’t like it would even be difficult for him; he was a good looking, smart, kind and courageous kid. She’d seen plenty of females eyeing him up; surely one would catch his eye sooner or later.

But none had, and now it had led them here. As she did her best to remain still and not make a sound while her son spooned her, played with her tit and humped her, she was finally forced to accept that this was no mere phase for him. Whatever had caused this, whether it was something she’d done to fail him as a parent or not, his attraction to her was not going away.

That was a confusing enough revelation for her to deal with, but then he’d started playing with her nipple and everything got even more muddled and confusing. It was around that time where she went from trying to endure this to actually enjoying it, and of all the things that might have come from Harry’s forbidden attraction to her, that was the least expected of all. She’d known he was drawn to her, but she never would have expected to find pleasure in all of this herself. She should have been able to control herself better than that! But she hadn’t. Having him touch her and rock his hips against her felt far better than it should have to begin with, but then he actually went and made her cum!

Her orgasm had been an absolute shock when it hit her, and she was still amazed she hadn’t moaned out loud and given away the fact she was not asleep at all. While she admittedly hadn’t had much time for romance or even casual sex opportunities since Harry came into her life and became her top priority that was still no explanation for this. She’d never climaxed from so little before. A bit of humping without penetration and some admittedly talented fingers toying with her nipple should not have been enough to make Natasha cum no matter how sparse sexual opportunities had become for her, and yet there she was, biting her lip and using every bit of stealth training she’d ever had to make sure she didn’t react in a way that would give herself away.

That became even harder when she felt Harry pull away from her and sensed his own orgasm. It was good that he’d had enough common sense remaining to pull free of her before he shot his cum all over her body; they would have had no choice but to address that. But even if his quick thinking had allowed them to avoid that conversation, Natasha knew that the events of this night would be hanging over both their heads going forward.

She wondered if what he’d just done had sated Harry’s curiosity and he would now be able to move past this forbidden attraction and seek out a normal, healthy relationship. That would be for the best for both of them, she knew, but she doubted it would be the case. Especially if what he’d just felt was anywhere close to what it had felt like for her.

She’d never had an orgasm like that, especially from nothing more stimulating than having her nipple played with. That would have been a surprise in and of itself, but that it was her son who had just managed to do what no other man (or woman) ever had? This was concerning for Natasha, not to mention extremely confusing.

Natasha didn’t know what would come next for them, where they would go from here and how this night would affect them. All she knew was that it _would_ affect them both in some way. Whether they ever discussed it or not, it wasn’t going to go away any time soon. She would just have to hope that her relationship with Harry could withstand whatever might happen. Whether as her son or as her frequent partner out in the field, there was no one in her life who meant more to her.

Hopefully he could find another woman soon, a woman who he could love openly. And hopefully she would be able to forget the way he touched her, and how his touch made her feel things she hadn’t ever felt in her life. 


	2. The Perfect Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their night in the hotel room has changed things between Harry and Natasha, and now weeks of unresolved tension finally boils over.

Natasha shook her head and looked away from Harry, whose shirt was stretched too tight across his chest and gave her a very good idea of the muscles that lay beneath. Averting her eyes from him had gotten harder and harder over the last several weeks, ever since that fateful night they'd shared a bed and he'd been unable to keep his hands (or his cock) off of her.

She'd known then that what had transpired between them that night would remain with them, lingering whether they ever talked about it or not. She had been more right than she could have known. As she'd feared, that night had not done anything to sate Harry's desire for her and help him move on towards pursuing a normal relationship. He had stared at her longer and more openly now, to the point that it was increasingly difficult for her to even pretend that it wasn't happening, and he'd only gotten bolder in how he acted around her. She'd been around enough men with lust in their hearts for her to recognize all of the signs that one was about to make a move on her, and all of those signs were there with Harry.

That would be bad enough on its own, but the scarier part for her was that she was not immune to the change that had come over them either. She'd known of his forbidden attraction to her, but until that night she had been sure that nothing would ever come of it. After all, he would never force her to do anything she didn't want to do no matter how much he desired her. As long as she remained firm in not allowing herself to ever think of her son that way everything would be fine, or as close to fine as it _could_ be when your son had a crush on you.

But she hadn't been able to get that night out of her mind. She hadn't been able to forget how it had felt to have his huge cock inside of her shorts and grinding against her, promising fulfillment and satisfaction if he just went a little bit lower and put it inside of her. Nor had she been able to forget his fingers on her nipple, how he'd strummed her and played with her and forced a shocking orgasm out of her. If that was how he could make her feel with nothing but some non-penetrative humping and fingers toying with her nipple, how amazing would it be if he actually _fucked_ her?

That was a question Natasha had not been able to get out of her head no matter how hard she tried for the last few weeks. It was easier, even if only marginally so, to ignore her budding attraction for her own son when they weren't in each other's presence. The problem with that was they rarely weren't around each other.

They'd formed such a good team that Director Fury continued to pair them up nearly every time either of them was summoned to take care of or look into something. She couldn't fault his logic in doing so, and if she tried to talk him out of pairing them up he would naturally want to know why. That wasn't something she could reasonably answer. Fury would see through any excuse she tried to give him, and she wasn't about to tell him that she would prefer not to work with her son because she was afraid he would pin her up against the wall and fuck her brains out in the middle of a mission, or worse, that she would _like_ it. She wouldn't make that confession to Nick Fury, not in a million years, so she had no choice but to go out on missions with Harry and hope that he wouldn't give in to temptation, and that she wouldn't let him.

This was how they found themselves in tonight's situation. They'd succeeded in tracking down a rival weapons manufacturer of Tony Stark's who was selling dangerous weapons to foreign terror groups on the black market, but not even Natasha in her desire to avoid sharing another hotel room with her son had been able to dispute that the prudent decision was to settle in for the night and make their move in the morning.

"The bathroom's free," Harry said, nodding to her. He stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose his lower stomach to her. She looked away quickly and cleared her throat, wondering if he'd done that on purpose.

"Thanks," she said. Natasha walked past him and towards the bathroom. She could feel her son's eyes on her as she walked by him, and wasn't able to resist putting a little bit of extra sway into her hips before she closed the door behind her.

\--

"Tomorrow's big," Natasha said, folding her legs together and resting her chin on her knees. "We should get some sleep."

"Mmm," Harry grunted noncommittally. He showed no interest in settling in under the covers on his side of the bed and trying to sleep. He looked over at her, and his eyes were on her bare legs. She'd worn a comfortable and rather conservative old tank top and faded shorts to bed, hoping the unsexy and plain sleepwear would cool off his libido (and hers as well.) It wasn't working. His eyes had been glued to her chest earlier, and now he couldn't seem to look away from her legs.

It wasn't like Natasha could scold him much for his staring, not without being a massive hypocrite at least. He'd gone shirtless, and his bare chest was doing funny things to her. He might be her little boy but he was all man now, and a delicious-looking man at that.

"Harry," she tried. The longer he looked at her the more anxious she felt, mainly because it made _her_ want to keep looking too. The sexual tension between them had been growing for weeks now, and it felt like it might explode any second if they didn't do something to stop it.

He looked up from her legs and into her eyes, but this was no better. She got lost in those vivid green eyes that were looking upon her with a level of desire and _need_ that she had never before seen, and those eyes and that stare were quickly making her lose whatever sense of composure she might have had. This was spiraling out of her control, and fast.

He sat up in bed, and she turned to face him instinctively, sensing the seriousness of this moment. They'd been dancing around this for weeks now, hovering just over the edge of something that was going to change their relationship forever, and her heart sped up as she realized they were about to plunge into the thick of this.

Natasha wanted to stop it. She wanted to be the responsible one and cut this off before it could happen. She knew that Harry would listen to her if she was firm enough about it. If she told him in no uncertain terms that this _thing_ between them could not ever be, that they could not cross that line, he would listen to her. It might break his heart, but he would listen to her. And as much as it would pain her to break his heart, her brain was screaming at her that it was what she had to do, that it was for the best. Better that she break his heart now and let some other girl come along and help him put it back together. Otherwise they would cross a line that should never be crossed. She needed to be the adult here. That was her job; he might be an adult now, but she was still his mother. She needed to stop this now, before it was too late.

That was what the responsible adult in her was saying; it was what the mother in her was saying. But the woman in her was saying something very different. The woman in her had been alone for far too long, thanks to the dual responsibilities of being a single mother and a trusted agent of SHIELD, and had not felt the way Harry had made her feel in far too long, if ever.

In this case it was the woman who won out, and desire that defeated reason, logic and morals. Natasha could not find it within her to tell him no as he scooted closer to her on the bed and put his hands on her shoulders. When his head leaned in towards her, she closed her eyes and let him close the distance between them.

It was like an electric shock when Harry's lips first touched hers. Natasha moaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss, and he moved his hands from her shoulders to wrap around her waist and pull her into an embrace instead. Her own hands, which had been down at her sides, came up and went around him as well. She rubbed his bare back, delighting in what she felt there. His back was so broad; proof that he was all man now.

To no surprise, Harry wasn't content to simply hug her body against him. His hands tugged at her tank top, frantically trying to get it off and out of his way. Natasha broke away and lifted her arms to help him get it over her head, and any illusions she might have still held about being in control evaporated with her voluntary assistance in getting her tank top off and baring her breasts for him.

He just stared at her tits for a few seconds, and then he took them into his hands and began to squeeze and play with them. Their kissing resumed as he played with her breasts, but this time he broke away quickly so he could start kissing, licking and sucking on her tits instead. Natasha groaned and let him have his fun. She put her hands on his head and stroked his hair, encouraging him to suck on her breast.

Next came her faded shorts, and he pulled both those and her panties off with one tug. Harry kissed her again, and his hands ran down her back and made their way straight to her ass. He gripped her firm cheeks and gave them a squeeze, and Natasha groaned in pleasure. How many men had stared at her ass as she walked, particularly when she was in the tight leather she so often wore while out on a mission? None of them had ever gotten to see what that ass looked like underneath the uniform though, or get their hands on it and feel its firmness for themselves. Only Harry, her own son, had gotten to this point with her in recent memory. The realization should have disgusted her.

It didn't. Natasha's response to Harry's hands on her naked ass was to take matters into her own hands, literally, by getting him just as naked as she was. She worked his boxers down his hips, and he broke away from her for just a second so he could shove them the rest of the way off and throw them off of the bed.

Now it had happened. Harry was just as naked as she was, and she was seeing his cock. She hadn't seen it in many years, but it was very different now. Now he wasn't her precious gift that she was taking care of. Now he was a man, and she looked at him as a man. And what a man!

There it was; this was the cock that she'd felt against her, slipping inside of her shorts and grinding against her ass as they huddled together in a hotel room very similar to this one. She'd been able to tell it was big back then, but now she could see it for herself in all its glory. It looked even bigger than she’d imagined it would, and she was already trying to envision what it might feel like if he put it inside of her. They shouldn’t do that; she shouldn’t allow it. But oh, how tempting it was to simply shove him onto his back, sit down on that beautiful cock and go for the kind of ride she’d sorely missed for years!

Harry hugged her again, and she groaned at feeling his cock poking her belly. Fuck, feeling it rubbing against her skin like that was something else! He maneuvered them so she was on her back and he was on top of her, and she groaned as that wonderful cock brushed against her. A cock like that was dangerous. It could make her do dangerous things; things she had no business doing. But Natasha knew she had to be strong. This was already going farther than it ever should have, but she could at least keep control of things enough to stop him from outright sticking his cock in and fucking her.

A reluctant denial was on the tip of her tongue, but Harry slid down her body and Natasha realized fucking her wasn’t his intention, at least not right now. Instead he kept going down until his head was between her legs, and any word of protest died on her lips as she was shocked into silence. Somehow she’d never seen him even attempting to do this for her; it hadn’t ever entered into consideration in her head. Even when she’d had a more active sex life it was rare for a lover to ever do this for her, at least not without prodding, bargaining or outright pleading on her part. She’d never had a man do this entirely of his own accord, and maybe that was why she found herself spreading her legs for him when his hands went to rest on her inner thighs.

Harry got to work, and the initial awkwardness of having her own son’s head between her legs went away quickly as Natasha was introduced to Harry’s tongue. It was nothing short of amazing as he not only ate her out but did so with a focused desperation that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Never had a man eaten her out with such relish. Usually it was a token effort at best, with the guy only staying down there long enough to earn whatever reward she’d promised him in return, but not so with Harry. He licked her as if his life depended on it; as if her pussy was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted in his life and he could never get enough of it.

It made no sense to her that he could be so good at this. She’d been led to believe that this was an acquired skill, and she was very confident that Harry had never touched another girl in this way (how could he, with how obviously preoccupied he’d always been with her?) So how was his tongue swirling around with such refined technique? How was he giving her cunnilingus that blew away everything else she could compare it to? Was he just a natural? Had he been studying up on this, making sure he was prepared in case he ever got the opportunity?

Natasha had no clue how Harry could be this good, but the most important thing was that he not stop. This was an insane situation, one that she should never have allowed herself to wind up in, but now that it was here she was going to reap all of the benefits of it,

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, Harry, that’s so good!” she cried as his tongue went to her clit and he rubbed her outer lips with his fingers. “ _So_ good!”

She ran her hands through his perpetually messy hair and saw him staring up at her from between her legs, his green eyes meeting hers in a piercing gaze. She had seen that look on his face before. Usually it was directed at some asshole he was trying to take down (especially if said asshole dared to try and take a swing or a shot at her first.) It was a look of utmost determination, and whenever she saw that look on Harry’s face she knew he was about to move heaven and earth to accomplish whatever he had on his mind. Right now it was her she was staring at, and the goal he was setting his sights on was bringing her pleasure.

As he always did, Harry accomplished his goal. He gradually picked up the pace and focused on her clit with greater intensity and frequency, and he slid two fingers inside of her to stroke along her inner walls in search of that one magical spot that would _really_ do it for her. Once he found that spot he focused on it with the same unerring vision and concentration that made him such a great successor in the role of Hawkeye, and all of his efforts worked together and brought her to the inevitable conclusion.

“Oh God! God, god, god, _Harry_ , yes, please, o-oh, right there, right there, _right there! Fuck, I’m cumming!_ ”

Natasha thrashed on the bed, her hands grabbed onto Harry’s hair for dear life and her hips bucked against his face without any conscious decision on her part. Her body was working independently of her brain right now, fueled by a feeling beyond any in her life. This was not just the biggest orgasm she’d had in years, but the biggest orgasm she’d had in her entire life.

She’d needed this for a long time; for years. For years she had been alone, sharing her bed with no one as she prioritized other things ahead of a love life, whether it be her job with SHIELD or raising her son. That it was the very same son who was now giving her what she had needed for so long was ironic, but this irony wasn’t even a thought in her head now. She could think only about the pleasure he was giving her.

Her focus returned to her only after she came back down to earth and noticed that Harry was now coming back up, and she had a very good idea of what he had in mind. She couldn’t allow it to happen though. As far as they’d already come, this was something they just couldn’t do. While there would already be no turning back from what they’d done, this was too much. She couldn’t take back what they’d already done, but she could at least prevent them from going all the way.

“Stop,” she said. He continued to move into position, so Natasha realized she would need to be more authoritative. “Stop, Harry,” she said firmly. “We can’t do this.” Harry looked at her with a pained frown, obviously frustrated at coming so close to what he’d been dreaming of only to have it ripped away from him at the last possible second, but he stopped just as she’d known he would.

“No?” he said, and her heart broke a little at the pain in his voice.

“We can’t do that, Harry,” she said. She ignored both the pain on his face and the anxious feeling in her stomach, as well as the mental image she conjured up of how amazing it would be to just give in and let him _take_ her. But she had to remain firm. “We can’t make love.”

“Okay,” he said, scooting back slightly. Natasha had never been able to bear seeing him like this. Little ever got him so dejected; he’d always seemed so mature and level-headed, even as a child. That he looked and sounded so bleak now told her that this was not merely a physical attraction that he held for her, but something deeper. The idea made her stomach twist in ways she was afraid to examine too closely.

“Lay down,” she said quietly, sitting up and putting her hands on his chest. She gave him a gentle nudge to indicate what he should do, and while he didn’t understand why she was asking this of him, he complied as always. He got down on his back for her, and she smiled at him. “Let me take care of you.” She wasn’t going to let him fuck her; she _couldn’t_ , no matter how much her body might want it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make him feel good.

At first she considered sucking him off, returning the favor he’d just done for her by introducing him to the full range of her oral skills (and she was _good_ , even if a bit out of practice by now.) But she decided against that. While she was sure he would appreciate that, she felt like doing something else for him. She couldn’t have sex with him, but she _could_ do something that would look and feel at least reasonably close to it.

“Spread your legs, baby.” Natasha belatedly realized that this term of endearment could apply to a child as easily as it could a lover, and the thought was disturbing and arousing at the same time.

Harry did as asked, spreading his legs wide for her much as she’d done for him. His cock remained rock hard despite the disappointment of being stopped right before he could bury it inside of her as he’d been dreaming of doing for years, and Natasha was determined to make it up to him. Maybe this wouldn’t be _quite_ as good, but it could be a damn good consolation prize at the very least.

She got on top of him, leaned her body back and put her hands on his ankles behind her. She positioned herself so his cock was trapped between her thighs, and then she started to move her body up and down on him, keeping him tight between her thighs and rubbing against his cock. She’d never actually given a thigh job before; usually if she’d come this far with a guy she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to go all the way. But she knew she had the legs to pull it off, and since she couldn’t let herself go all the way this time, this seemed like as good a time as any to try it out.

That Harry was enjoying it was obvious. It was written all over his face with every trip her pussy lips took up and down his shaft, and the way he groaned as her thighs squeezed him tight. He was quite clearly having the time of his life, even if his cock wasn’t quite where he wanted it to be.

The bigger surprise for Natasha was how good _she_ felt. She’d known that this cock would feel incredible inside of her pussy, but even having it rub against her like this was thrilling to her, more thrilling than she’d expected it to be. Hearing him groan and seeing the pleasure written all over his face brought her pride, but it was hard for her to concentrate on anything other than herself. His cock felt so good brushing across her pussy lips. It would feel even better _inside_ of her, of course, but this was a better replacement than she was really expecting it to be. And the way it touched her clit too! The thigh job was doing its work on Harry, but Natasha was surprised to realize that she was probably going to have another climax as well if this kept up for much longer.

That possibility drove her to move even faster, not just to bring him pleasure to make up for denying him what he really wanted but also to chase down her own thrill. She was moving with enough force now to make her ass audibly slap down against his thighs, and the hotel room bed shook beneath them. 

Natasha could feel any sense of logic or propriety that still remained becoming a distant memory the longer she moved her legs and the more she felt his cock rub against her labia and her clit. It wasn't penetration, but it was close enough and felt good enough that it was hard to draw any sort of distinction or even pretend that she was preserving anything by not letting him stick it inside of her. His cock was between her legs, she was about to make him cum and get off herself in the process; what difference did it make if his cock was inside of her or not?

Harry said nothing; the only sounds he made were moans and groans that got increasingly louder the closer he got to orgasm. Natasha loved it. She _shouldn't_ love hearing those sounds, not from her son, but right now he wasn't her son in her mind. He was a man, a young, virile man with a massive cock that felt so good against her, and she wanted to hear more of it. She wanted everything from him.

"You're going to cum, aren't you Harry?" she asked. He just nodded while continuing to moan, and she grinned at him. "Good. Do it. _Do it_. I wanna feel it. I want you to shoot that cum all over me, just like you should have done when you humped me in the last hotel bed we shared!" His eyes widened slightly as she'd just admitted that she had been awake and knew full well what he'd done, so she decided to blow his mind even more. "I came, you know. With just your cock humping my ass and your fingers playing with my nipple, I came. I hid it from you so you wouldn't know I was awake, but no one has made me feel that good in years!"

Now Harry looked even more shocked. She had not only been awake, but she'd gotten off on it too! It was a revelation for him for sure, but even that revelation soon became insignificant. Her legs kept moving, her thighs kept pleasuring him and he was brought closer and closer to the edge until at last he came with an overwhelmed groan. With his cock trapped between her strong thighs, his seed shot straight up into the air. Natasha's eyes followed its trajectory, amazed by how far it shot up as well as how much of it there was. Had there been this much back during that first fateful hotel room encounter, she wondered?

The vast majority of it landed on her body, mostly her thighs and belly. Watching his cum shoot into the air and feeling it hit her skin was enough to get Natasha the rest of the way there herself. Just as she had the last time she was forced to share a hotel room bed with her son, she came. But this time she didn't have to hide that fact. She didn't need to feign sleep so he wouldn't know how he was making her feel. This time she could let go and make sure he knew just how incredible this had been for her, and that's exactly what she did.

"Oh, Harry!" she whined. "Oh, Harry; oh _fuck_ , yes! I'm cumming; I'm _cumming!_ "

\--

Hearing Natasha cry out her orgasm and watching her beautiful face express her pleasure was a moment Harry knew he would remember forever. Between that and his semen that stained her thighs and belly, this had already been an incredible night for him. Even without actually sticking his cock inside of her, this night had gone better than he could have hoped for.

But it wasn't enough. It could never be enough, not now. He'd been dejected when Natasha stopped him from fucking her, but he'd gone along with it and respected her wishes. When she'd started giving him this thigh job to make up for it, he'd been content with that. It wasn't exactly what he'd wanted, but it was incredible in its own right. If she'd left it at that and shooting his cum onto her thighs had been the closest he'd ever come to fucking her, he would have learned to live with it.

But then she'd confessed to not only being awake that night when he humped her, but enjoying it and having an orgasm of her own. It felt odd to him that he hadn't noticed it at the time, but he supposed he'd been a little distracted with his own stealthy pleasure. The real story was what it meant though.

She wanted this too. She'd known how he felt about her and what he'd done, and she'd allowed him to do it and did nothing to stop it from happening again. Her morals were telling her she shouldn't since she thought of him as her son, which was a huge hurdle he himself didn't have to deal with, as his previous life had prevented him from ever really seeing her as a mother. But her body knew what it wanted, and it wanted his cock. It wanted _him_ , just as he wanted her. The moment he realized that, the moment he realized that she was doing this not just to appease him but because she wanted it too, her thigh job was never going to be enough to satisfy him. As incredible as it had felt, he needed more. And so did she.

Harry quickly sprang into action, flipping them over so Natasha was on her back and he was on top of her. She yelped in surprise, and he had her legs and his own legs pressing down into her so he was nearly squatting rather than getting on top of her in a more traditional missionary position.

He let her feel his cock brush against her vulva for a few seconds, not only letting her feel that he was hard again (make that still), but giving her one last chance to put a stop to it. If she could still insist that he could not fuck her even now, even after everything the two of them had shared, he would honor her request and not push forward. But he wasn't worried about that happening. He knew what he felt, and if she felt even a fraction of it she was not going to resist this anymore.

Sure enough, no objection came. Harry shoved his hips forward and pushed his cock inside of Natasha Romanoff at last.

Being inside of Natasha was something he'd dreamed of for far too long, but not even his vivid imagination could match the reality. The moment he penetrated her he knew this was meant to be. He had been reborn into this new life so he could be with Natasha Romanoff, and now that he'd done it he would never stop.

He didn't just sit there and revel in the moment, of course. There was no time for that, for either of them. They both needed the satisfaction of a good hard fuck, and Harry took that responsibility very seriously. He drove his hips forward into her hard each time, quickly establishing a swift pace. His cock hit deep inside of her with each thrust, intent on giving her a fuck unlike any she'd ever had. While he didn't know precisely how many men she'd been with in her life, he knew the total was higher than zero. Unlike him, she had at least some amount of prior experience to compare him to. He wanted that comparison to be in his favor. He wanted her to know that he was the one for her, the one who could fuck her like no one else could. He wanted her to be just as sure about them belonging together as he was, and he tried to prove this to her with every thrust of his hips.

"Oh, God!" Natasha gasped. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and her eyes were wide and bright as she stared up at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "My God, Harry, it's so good! It's so fucking _good_!"

It was working. It felt as good for her as it did for him, or at least close to it. He had a hard time imagining it was _quite_ as good for her, because this was the apex of his life; of _either_ of his lives. This was what he'd been working towards for all this time. All of the loneliness and solitude of his first life, up to and including the defeat of Voldemort, had been for this. And then came the frustration of being reborn into a new identity where he was hopelessly attracted to a woman who viewed him as her son and thus would likely never return his affection. That had been even more frustrating than his loneliness in its own way, but this too had all been worth it. He was fucking the woman of his dreams at long last, and nothing could ever compare.

Natasha's pussy was a perfect fit for him, just as he'd known it would be. The reality of fucking her was even better than his dreams and fantasies had been. The tightness of her pussy, the slap of skin on skin, the way her breasts shook and her eyes shone with love and lust in equal measure--it was better than he could have ever dared hope for.

He could have spent an eternity fucking her, and he dearly hoped that she would acknowledge their compatibility, admit they belonged together and not let any notions about what they _should_ be doing come between them, between this. He hoped that this would become a common occurrence for them; that he would get to fuck, make love to and be loved by this perfect woman every day for the rest of his life.

But he couldn't focus too hard on the future he hoped to have; not right now. All he could do was make the most of this moment in time and fuck her to the absolute best of his ability, and that's what he did. He put all of the love and lust he felt for Natasha into every one of his thrusts, driving his cock into her welcoming tightness with as much force as he could manage. The slap of his balls against her ass and the creaking of the bed made for a pleasant soundtrack, but he wasn't nearly as interested in those noises as he was in the moans he was forcing out of Natasha.

Any sign of hesitance seemed to have left her at some point while his cock was between her thighs, and it had not come back. She wanted this, and she was loving every second of it. He could hear the pleasure in every breathless moan and gasp she emitted, and see it in her eyes as she stared up at him unflinchingly. She wasn't looking away; she wasn't trying to pretend that this wasn't happening, or trying to envision someone else in his place. She was being fucked by him, by the young man she had always thought of as her son, and she wasn't running and hiding from that fact, which made him happier than words could express.

If words couldn't express how he felt, actions could. In this case he would show her how much this meant to him by making sure she had the time of her life. She'd already cum twice tonight compared to his lone orgasm, but he had no interest in something as ridiculous as 'getting even.' He would keep this up and not give in to his own pressing need to get off until he'd made her cum around his cock. He'd gotten her off with his mouth and then she'd gotten _herself_ off while stroking him with her thighs, but now he was going to use his cock to give her a climax that would hopefully be at least as strong as the previous two, if not even bigger.

Harry kept going, and eventually he struck gold. Natasha's moans took on a more urgent tone, and her eyes stared up at him as if begging. Then she removed any and all doubt by actually begging.

"Please," she said, her voice somewhere between a whisper and a groan. "Please, Harry. Please, please, please!"

There had been no need for her to beg, not ever. He would give her whatever she needed from him, and this was no exception. Fuck, he'd been _dreaming_ of being fortunate enough to have a chance to give this to her! He responded to her begging not with words but with actions. He thrust into her even harder and faster, determined to make the ending even more intense and pleasurable than the rest had been.

He was rewarded for his diligence when Natasha opened her mouth in a silent scream and shook beneath him as she came. She squirted, and squirted hard, but Harry's eyes never left her face. He wanted to take in her face like this, awash with pleasure, and commit it to memory.

Now that he'd done what he set out to do and made her cum, Harry allowed himself to give in to his own pent-up desire. He started cumming before her climax had even passed, pushing in so far that the tip of his cock kissed her cervix and then letting loose. He deposited burst after burst of semen deep inside of her. Even though he knew there was no way she could get pregnant from it (his 'birth' having been a one time event that no doctor could understand, and they wouldn't believe the truth even if Harry shared it with them), there was something immensely satisfying about burying his cock so deep inside of Natasha and pumping her full of his seed.

His body seemed to agree, because he gave her a load even bigger than the healthy amount he'd shot onto her belly and thighs earlier. Natasha moaned throughout it all, obviously not bothered in the slightest to have him cumming inside of her. He knew now that there would be no issues with continuing this going forward. If her only reaction to feeling his semen rush into her was to moan and smile, there was no way she would ever have a problem with any of this again.

Even with the situation looking more and more likely to continue well into the future, Harry was in no hurry to pull out of her even after he was spent. He was finally where he was meant to be, even if it had taken him two 'lifetimes' to get there.

\--

As Harry slowly pulled his cock out of her, Natasha shook her head with a smile. How foolish she'd been to ever think she could deny herself this pleasure! It was a good thing Harry hadn't allowed her to make such a foolish mistake and deny them both something they needed so much.

He'd had her on her back and was poised to enter her before she even knew what was happening, but he'd paused before entering her, and she knew what that pause was all about. It wasn't out of any self-doubt over what he was about to do or more importantly _who_ he was about to do it with. He'd known what he wanted well before now; he'd seen that they were made for each other, and had just been waiting for her to catch up and realize the same thing. He'd paused not for him but for her. He wanted to give her one final chance to stop it before they crossed the final line, the ultimate taboo from which there would be no coming back. And she knew that had she spoken up, had she still been able to look him in the eyes and tell him that they couldn't do it, he would have listened to her.

But refusal had been impossible for her. She'd been wavering already after he ate her out so well and with such passion, and then the incredible high of having him between her thighs had finished the job. There was no fight left in her by the time he rolled her over onto her back and pressed his cock against her entrance. She'd been ready to accept her strange new life.

She'd fought against what Harry felt for her, and what she felt for him in return, because it wasn't natural; it wasn't _normal._ But her life had never been normal, so why should it suddenly start now? She'd found her perfect lover, something she'd never expected to find in her life. That she'd had to give birth to said perfect lover, and in a shock pregnancy that no one had an explanation for, was just par for the course in the life of Natasha Romanoff.

She wasn't going to fight fate anymore. She was just going to go with it; she was going to stop questioning or doubting why her life had taken this turn and instead simply enjoy it.

"That was amazing, baby," she said, cuddling into his side. As before, the term of endearment could be taken in multiple ways, but at this point she didn't really care about the distinction. It didn't matter what label you wanted to put on Harry or her relationship with him. He was the most important person in her life, just as he had been for nearly two decades now, and that would never change.

He was her partner in the field during missions as well as in life, and he was the greatest partner she could ever ask for. She'd already known that was true in the field; knowing his bow was at her back had given her more confidence than ever before. But now she knew he was just as perfect a partner for her in bed.

It didn't matter what anyone else would think should they ever learn how deep their relationship ran. They were a team, her and Harry, and as long as she had her partner with her she could take on the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/MayorHaggarFics


End file.
